


How do you like this, Mr. Messi?

by lymie



Series: How do you like it? [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Fluff, M/M, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:30:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lymie/pseuds/lymie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you are one of the biggest football stars ever you have to always look presentable. And while it seems too exhausting, it gets better when you have a beautiful, tall, tanned Portuguese stylist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Mr. Messi, what about this suit?” - a young, tanned man was standing in the middle of nicely furnished, modern-looking Lionel Messi’s bedroom, where almost every girl in Barcelona at least would like to find herself, holding a navy blue suit in front of a shorter guy, who for your information was standing there topless, sun shining through the glass playing with his pale skin, eyes brighter than ever.

Cristiano Ronaldo has been working for Lionel for a long time now, probably a year or a little more, taking the position of a personal style advisor. He is the one responsible for that classy black two-piece Leo was wearing to the 2015 Ballon D’Or ceremony and that grayish-black suit at the Best Player UEFA 2015. Not that he didn’t like the scarlet or maroon suits of Leo’s at the previous ceremonies or the black one with some flowers on it, he just felt Leo on some other level and thought that it might have been too much for a person described as a humble and down-to-earth by the press. Classy black looked so much better on him.

It was a hot summer day and Leo was too tired already trying one suit after another. He was whining almost about every piece the other guy had given him and Cristiano could understand, but he had to get his job done. Leo being a professional footballer meant that they’ve never had a lot of time to try stuff on, so when Messi has a moment Cris always tries to do as much work as possible. 

La Pulga looked up, locking eyes on the Portuguese. “I like the color. It reminds me of Barcelona’s kits,” he said, taking the hanger with pants on it from Cristiano. “Of course it does,” the other teased, squatting down to straighten Leo’s pants and the bottom so he could estimate how much he would have to alter in order for the pants to be the perfect fit for his client. In the end of the day it doesn’t matter whether it is Dolce&Gabbana or Dior if the suit isn’t tailored well. 

“Maybe we could use a pair of sneakers or wing-tips for this suit,” the stylist’s voice sounded suggesting, he pouted his lips, thinking through his ideas to himself. It was clear to Messi that his assistant was talking to himself, however he liked to watch Cris doing his job like that. It was almost the same as watching a musician create a new masterpiece or a painter in a process of creating a new painting. Something about it was too close to home for Leo and he found it being exactly the same as what Leo felt everyday on the pitch. That feeling of completion, concentration and inspiration like no other activity could give him.

“What are wing-tips?” Leo asked, arching his brow. The taller guy flicked his eyes up to his client, standing there topless as if there was no air conditioning in the room and it was too hot outside for him to wear something. He stood up, examining his work on Leo’s pants, fixing a pin where afterwards he would draw a line with chalk and alter them. “They are the type of dress shoes, just like the ones in the corner, Mr. Messi,” Cristiano waved his hand towards the corner of the bedroom ambiguously. 

“Oh, I didn’t know they had a special name,” Leo said in surprise, “And you know you could call me just Leo, right?”

Cristiano looked up once more, locking his gaze on his employer’s brown eyes for a short moment, not saying anything. Leo felt awkward for a moment, but continued the conversation if it could be called that way. “The club wants me to change my style a bit, you know, as I am one of the key players,” he said watching Cristiano jotting down some notes into his notebook. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” the Portuguese exclaimed, stopping his hand in mid-air. He looked like he had lost the train of thoughts, confused and disappointed. “Do they not like your style?” 

“They do when you style me for award shows and official meetings, but they think that a face of the club has to be more stylish in real life, y’know, not only on some special occasions,” he smiled shyly, “so I thought maybe we could work on my casual style a bit.” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was ashamed of what he asked. 

Cristiano just blurted out an unsure “okay” while giving him a plain white shirt. “Do I have to wear it now? It is just a shirt, I bet it fits me well.”

“Yes, you do, Mr. Messi. Without that shirt you can’t wear a top part and I have to make some marks too, so I could tailor it later.” Cristiano explained, looking annoyed with stupid questions, but secretly Leo knew, he wasn’t annoyed at the question, it was a part of his job - he was that cranky because he was taken out of his little creative reality for a second with that question. Leo could talk to him during the thinking process, but Cristiano wasn’t paying a lot of attention to whatever he said, lifting his gaze only when his boss said something funny or important. Either way with sarcastic expression on his face. 

“So, back to what I was saying, I had planned this little vacation a while ago and some of my staff people are coming. And I want you to be there too, if it’s okay,” the Argentine looked into the mirror, seeing Cristiano jumping around him with safety pins, writing down something in his notebook, his curly hair was gel-free today and it was falling down a little on his forehead. Would his hands look good in the soft locks of tanned man’s hair? 

The picture took every little space of Leo’s brain until he heard a determined “When?” Cristiano’s face expressionless, voice unimpressed. 

“In a couple of days, Copa America had just finished, so the coach and the doctors say I need some rest outside of Barcelona, y’know, because of all the media,” he explained carefully, still hurt from the loss, “As for me I wouldn’t want to get out of the house.” Cristiano just glanced at him for a second waiting for more words, but continuing to fix the jacket. 

“I know it’s such a short notice, but I would like you to go with me, so you could manage my style. I don’t need press to criticize me for my style too.” He sighed, looking down, recalling that evening of June 27th, known to him as the evening of a big failure. His voice was more of a guilty one, he felt bad that he never said anything to his personal stylist about the trip.

“The only thing I am worried about is that I might not be ready with your vacation style shopping.” He said, angrily writing something in the same black notebook. “What? You need some clothes!” He exclaimed after catching Leo’s look.

“Why can’t I use the ones I have?” He pointed towards his huge walk-in closet, filled with mostly training gear and casual clothing. 

“Didn’t you mention that you wanted to change something about your style?” Cris arched his eyebrow, grinning at Leo, who just shook his head, smiling at himself, whispering a short “Of course.”

Awkward silence descended in the room. Cristiano’s movements were swift, but silent, almost like a touch of a butterfly on Leo’s shoulders. And although his moves were not supposed to be for the shorter man but for a jacket that was on him, it still was a rather soothing experience for the Argentine. 

“Wait,” he said, and Cristiano looked at him through the mirror, “Your only question was about timing, does it mean you are accepting my offer?” 

“What else should I do when my boss tells me he needs me to do my job?” Cristiano sounded like he stated the obvious thing, arching his eyebrow again for what seems like a thirtieth time today. His sassiness is what Leo sometimes didn’t appreciate at all. What a weird thing that was - the employer was shy and humble, while the employee was the confident and always sarcastic one. 

“I would understand if you said no. It is like a week away from home.” Leo shrugged. But Cris seemed to ignore that, uttering a “pfffft” sound, like the thing Leo have said was nonsense.

“I am glad you’ll be there.” Leo suddenly said after a minute or two of silence and his words made the taller guy’s hands stop in mid-air, holding a pin too close to the skin of Leo’s waist. That was a rather shocking phrase to hear from your sexy - and yes you’ve heard him right - boss, for a second there Cris pretended he didn’t hear it, and he almost answered, when Leo continued, “And I will cover all of your expenses, too.”

“You know that you pay me more than enough for me to be able to pay for my own stuff, right?” Cris said, pouting his lips again - something about him that Leo thought was really cute, and sounded offended in general. He didn’t like when his boss brought up money issue, never considering himself less of a successful person because of a lower income than the top footballer at least in La Liga. His independence, protectiveness of the thing he truly loved and ambitiousness was what people, including Leo, really liked about him. Besides his looks and flirtatious nature. 

“Yeah, I understand and I didn’t mean it like that. I was just saying that I am paying for my bodyguards and other assistants, so any of you will not have to pay for something I am kinda guilty for.” Leo shrugged again, making Cris put his hand on his boss’ shoulders to stop the movement. Not that the footballer didn’t like it, he almost wanted to repeat his move so he would feel the touch again. He shouldn’t crave his assistant’s touches this much. But he did. That thought had to be hidden deep inside Leo’s brain. “Don’t you want to know where we are going?” His curious look tried to find any sign of excitement on his stylist’s tanned face.

“Nope,” the Argentine heard, “it is a business trip for me, not a vacation, so I don’t really care to know.” His answer sounded completely irrational to Leo’s curious nature. And he would lie if he said that at that exact moment he wasn’t thinking that he gotta make this trip as relaxing as it could be for Cris. 

“Do I need to try on something else?” 

“No, that is it for today,” Cris’ eyes followed Leo’s movements, who was taking off his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. Almost like he was teasing the stylist in front of him. Cris swallowed the lump that had built up in this throat due to the picture of an almost naked body standing something like three feet next to him. “But I need to know what you like to wear while on vacation, so I could do shopping later today.” He pronounced, his voice low and hoarse.

“Like the normal stuff, swimming shorts, a t-shirt, maybe a baseball cap, some sunglasses.” 

“Well, duh, but what kind of shorts? Like knee-long or maybe thigh-long?” Cris bit the end of his pencil, jotting down some details for his shopping spree tomorrow. He was such a sassy bitch when it came to clothing.

“Somewhere in the middle, not too short, but not too long either.” A stylist just nodded, smiling.

And that was what concluded their conversation for the day. Leo just escorted him to the door, as if it was first time for the Portuguese in his house and said a quick “thanks” and “see you soon”, he closed his door, heading straight to the shower to wash off the sweat and some of Cris’ touches. 

That sexual tension between the two of them was never a subject of discussion, although it appeared a while ago, as the two sexy people in one room would develop it anyways. It was just never something to consider because the boss-employee relationship was the priority for Cris, if not for Leo.

Considering that, both of them ended their day in a long, somewhat cold shower.


	2. Chapter 2

Leo was still asleep when the rays of morning sun were trying to enter his room through the almost closed blinds. He felt the softness of fabric on his bare skin, turning over to lay on his stomach. He had a lot of stuff to take care of today, starting with the final touches to his vacation week with one of his managers and finishing with packing his bags and Leo shivered on that thought. He has never liked those vacations he had to go by himself but this one was rather a needed one, than a desired one. He needed to let it all go - all of his failures, lows and get ready for the new season with his club, and nothing will help him more than beautiful sunrises and sunsets over the Mediterranean sea, the quiet noise of waves and maybe some delicious food. On a day like this one he wished he had that special person to share that with. To share his favorite views across the globe, to share some of the experiences if not all and to share his feelings with. Thought after thought he found himself thinking of Cristiano. 

He opened his eyes wide and he was completely awake in the blink of an eye. His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He put his thumb over the home button, watching his phone while it unlocked. He got a text, and he was too concentrated at the text itself rather that the sender. And when he finally saw the person’s name - he opened his eyes even wider, it felt surreal, felt like the other person almost sensed that Leo thought of him. 

Cristiano  
“Sorry for the early text, Mr. Messi. I’m finished with your shopping for the trip, do you want to try it on before the departure?”

Leo sighed, something in this whole situation made him feel a little tingling in his fingers. It’s been a few days now, since the last time he saw the guy. Leo wanted to leave Barcelona first thing tomorrow morning and Cris have done everything in time, just as always. 

“Sure, I’d like to see what you got”

The Argentine hit the “send” button just before he realised how flirty and weird that must’ve sounded. He really hoped that Cris wouldn’t mention it today or any other day, he would actually appreciate it. After a five minute silence from his employee, Leo stood up, pulling his boxers on. 

He yawned, stretched and walked across his spacious bedroom to the white wooden door that leads to his bathroom. After his morning routine was over, he checked his phone again, finding a new text from his assistant.

Cristiano  
“I’ll be there in an hour.” 

It read and Leo probably did the right thing when decided not to respond. He put on a pair of Nike shorts, the ones that were Barcelona’s training gear a couple of seasons back. Feeling fresh and ready to start a new day, he strolled out of his room feeling his heart beating fast. 

***

Cristiano was as punctual as ever. Tanned Portuguese arrived with a face full of excitement, weird for a usually expressionless and indifferent man, and a bunch of shopping bags from various brands in his hands. His hair once more was gel-free and Leo liked it this way. The curls were a little touched by the wind, a strand or two falling down on his forehead. He looked like he just ran a marathon, breathless, but happy for some reason. And Leo couldn’t imagine any person besides, of course, his style advisor to be that active at this time of the day. 

“Morning, Mr. Messi,” he said happily, his voice was close to what Leo’s sounded like on a chill Christmas morning a little over 20 years ago. His smile though is what made Leo feel weirdly comfortable. The Argentine just hoped to see this expression more often. A thought crossed his mind for a short second that maybe Cris is actually excited for a short vacation Leo is taking him on. 

“Morning. Cristiano?” He said, trying to get his assistant’s attention, who piled up the bags and now got his well-known black notebook. When he looked up at his name being called, Leo continued. “I think you are older than me?” Leo started to talk, voice a little thick and hoarse after sleep. “Again, why do you still call me Mr. Messi? 

Cristiano still was looking at him, eyebrows furrowed - which seemed to be for the first time today. His look changed to unimpressed, bored in the blink of an eye, like the topic was already talked through more that enough. “That is what I supposed to call you simply because you are my boss.” He answered, grumpy and not that happy anymore. And Leo fully blamed himself for that.

“I just feel a little uncomfortable with that, but you can do whatever you want.” Leo concluded, giving up on the topic, but catching Cris’ gaze on his torso. His face was now covered with an overconfident type of a grin, but the Portuguese didn’t seem to notice, or care, looking down to his now opened notebook with a slight sigh.

“Let’s get this over with,” he continued, not expecting Cris to answer he walked towards the stairs heading up to his bedroom. Cris was in his own world for a second, shrugging and following Leo a minute later.

***

“I really like these ones,” Leo quietly said, looking down at himself wearing a pair of beach shorts, indigo colored with some little turtles on them. He looked up, glaring at Cris in the mirror, who’s jotting down something in that notebook, that Leo starts to hate, it is like he is always in his phone, besides the small black sketchbook was in his soft hands for the majority of time that Leo has spent with his assistant. And with every minute, he was more and more curious to know what’s inside.

“Okay, what about these?” Cris asked, standing behind Leo, showing him a little shorter length beach shorts in peach. Leo smiled, shaking his head. 

“Too flashy, aren’t they?” 

“A little, but nobody says you can’t pull them off after that scarlet suit.” Cris mentioned, being sarcastic, as always. He caught a short embarrassed smile on his boss’ face and then continued. “You should try on these ones, too.” The Portuguese said, giving up on peach without any argument. He stretched his arm towards Leo, holding a pair of maroon beach shorts with little pink polka dots in his hand. 

“Sure?” Leo asked, having his own opinion on them, but Cris is a professional in the end of the day.

He nodded, watching Leo standing there in his boxers, who looked like he was contemplating his choices in life at that moment, eyebrows lowered, as he was a little sad, but eyes concentrated as on the pitch every time. He pulled them on, turning around to check himself out in the mirror. 

“They look nice.” He stated, still in doubt, which he, for some apparent reason, tried to cover up in front of Cristiano.

“What don’t you like about them, Mr. Messi?” They both chuckled at the name pronounced with a somewhat heavy portuguese accent, ignoring Leo’s previous question. And there Leo got it - it was not Cris being polite and professional, well not only that, it was sarcastic, maybe connected with his height or age, maybe with status. 

“I don’t know,” he signed, “it’s just that last time I wore maroon, the press gave me a hard time.” 

Maybe that was the day of discoveries for them, because Cris could swear he had never seen his employer being so vulnerable, affected that much by some words from random people. The picture of Leo in his mind was always clear - a confident top striker for Barcelona, short but never allowing that to be a barrier for him. And he was not ready for sad, vulnerable Lionel Messi standing in front of him.

His initial thought was to give him a warm tight hug, but he refrained from that, considering it to be not appropriate. “For God’s sake, Mr. Messi, forget about what random people say!” He exclaimed, taking a step back, as if that would help Leo now. Footballer just locked his gaze somewhere on Cristiano’s face, looking at the tanned face, but not seeing it. 

“You should concentrate on your career, not what somebody, who is probably boring in real life, says.” He continued, feeling somewhat awkward giving his boss a piece of advice on how to deal with the media. “Come on, I’ve got some other options for you, more for a night out.” Cris quietly said, voice sounding like he was a mom trying to make it better for her kid with an ice-cream. He bent over to the shopping bags, getting out a pair of denim shorts and two pairs of bermudas - navy blue and black. The colors were not “beachy”, but Cris shouldn’t ever let himself imagine Leo in those in public. 

The denim ones looked baggier on his boss, than expected, it was too sudden of a change from beach shorts that Cris could see his client’s thigh muscles through. 

“What do you think?” Leo asked, arching his brow and rotating around to see every bit of the article of clothing in the mirror, like one of those girls in “Say yes to the dress”. He tried to pull them lower, which Cris kind of shook his head to. 

“They are baggier, you could still pack them if you like them, but that would not be your first choice.” He calmly responded, crossing something out in his notebook. “Go ahead and try the other ones on.”

Lionel’s eyes were all over the room, his gaze fell upon the bed, that was not made yet, he looked to the door to his closet, opened now as Cris was walking back and forth, he finally glanced back at his blue suit, hanging on the rack his stylist wheeled out of the mentioned room, that he was wearing to the court another day and frowned. Nobody likes problems hanging in the air above them. He sighed and pulled on navy blue bermudas, lifting up his sad hazel eyes only to see Cris staring at his legs, that were now hugged with soft cotton. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking at Cristiano, careless about anything else at this moment. “Interesting,” Leo thought to himself, a pushy grin changing his wry smile from a minute ago. 

Cristiano stepped back, while trying to take in the picture of Leo’s hips in tight navy blue fabric to the fullest. He opened his notebook in a hurry, browsing through the milky-white pages, when finally he found his recent sketch of Leo. He has been drawing him for some time now and within every sketch he was getting better and better with details of Leo’s captivating body. Cris added a few pencil strokes, keeping it as close to himself as he could, for Leo not to see. He then put it away, noticing Leo’s interested look on his face and blushing. Fuck. He cleared his throat, while leaning down to where Leo’s knees were to fix his bermudas, feeling sudden heaviness in his lower stomach and blush spreading across his tanned cheeks even more. 

“When was the last time you went on a vacation?” Leo asked, his voice hoarse and too sexy, which was interpreted by Cris’ brain as mocking. He never looked up, concentrating on the fabric in front of him. 

“A year ago or maybe even the year before that,” answer was quick, he was almost whispering, trying not to show his embarrassment. Trying to cover up for himself being aroused only by seeing his boss dressed in a certain way. “Why?” 

And as Leo was about to answer, Cristiano suddenly straightened up, emerging in front of Leo like mount Everest. That move was supposed to be so innocent, Cris wasn’t aware of how close they would end up. Leo’s eyes were right in front of his assistant's, podium that Leo was standing on minimized their height difference. They were catching each other’s breath, their chests going up and down fast. “Just out of curiosity,” he whispered right into Cris’ face, locking his eyes on the Portuguese’s plump red lips. The Argentinian moved his hand, touching the other man’s waist with his fingertips. Touch was subtle and soft, almost surreal. His fingers slid over the fabric of Cristiano’s shirt, touching his abdomen, - he stopped for a second on hearing a heavy breathing coming from above, and then continued to trace lines on his toned stomach with his fingers, watching his own moves, it seemed so surreal to him. He finally put his whole palm just under the rib cage, shocked at how small he was comparing to the man in front of him. If he would put both of his hands on Cris’ chest, his thumbs wouldn’t probably meet. 

And when Leo looked up and was 99 percent sure about what will happen next, the style advisor stepped back, eyes looking down, but opened in shock. His chest still moved fast, as he was out of breath. He fussed around, stuffing everything back to the shopping bags with trembling hands, putting his own notebook away and croaking a quiet “that’s it for today, I-I gotta go. Yeah.” His perfume filled the room and Lionel for a second felt it on his own skin, he needed to feel it on himself. 

Messi wanted to stop the guy, but as he got back to the reality, drunk with Cris’ smell and feel of his skin under Leo’s own fingers, he was gone, only the quiet clicking sound of a closed door following him. Leo sat down on the podium, clasping his hands and ruffling his hair. 

“Very interesting,” he said quietly, getting his phone out and unlocking it. He scrolled through his contacts, sliding his finger from one number to another, contemplating. He had no idea who to call, but he needed a piece of advice. He finally decided, pressing a contact to see the info and then he put his fingers over the call button, waiting until a husky man’s voice filled the room through the speaker. He exhaled, starting a conversation still unsure about this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, Chaper 3 is here. I hope everyone likes it! 
> 
> Thank you for reading and for your comments!

Cool leather of his private jet seat felt nice against his sweaty skin. Leo brushed couple of sweat drops off of his forehead, putting his hands on his thighs. This trip was not supposed to start like this, they were behind the schedule because of the jet company and it seemed like they were missing a couple of people from the crew, including Cristiano. The thoughts in his brain twisted in the weirdest way possible, he already has thought that this vacation was a bad idea and that he wouldn’t have a great time and then there was Cristiano, who ran away yesterday and now he wasn’t here. What if Cristiano decided not to go? What if he didn’t want to work for Leo anymore? The headache was just unbearable, when did he start to care that much about the tall Portuguese? 

With that thought the footballer stood up, fixing his pants as he sat for a long time. He looked around, seeing his bodyguards making themselves comfortable in their seats right behind Leo’s seat. He saw his assistant Tiago sitting in his seat on the other side of the plane, the emptiness of the seat next to Tiago felt so cold in his heart. He walks down the aisle of a plane, making his way towards the doors. He walked out, being follow by Kun - his main bodyguard, always behind his back. Breathing in hot dry air, he thought of how would this week influence his life, if it will at all. 

Talking about Cristiano, there he was, standing in all of his beauty, his muscles seemed more defined than ever in that lovely t-shirt of his, but that was not the only part of Leo’s problem. Cristiano was wearing a pair of monochromatic black skin-tight shorts. Not that Leo had never paid any attention to the guy’s figure, but this time he could see everything he needed to see - his muscular butt, that seemed so much bigger when in this type of clothing, the lovely tanned skin of his thighs, a little white mark on the back of his leg, right above the back of his knee. Too much to take in.

And as Leo was daydreaming about kissing that same scar away, feeling blush in his cheeks spreading now further to his neck and reaching collar bones, Cris was carelessly walking up to the plane, smiling at Leo. Just like yesterday didn’t happen, just like it was Leo who ran away in a hurry. He said a quick “Hi” and all Leo could do is to follow Cristiano’s movement with his eyes. 

There is definitely a problem. 

***

It was an hour long flight to Ibiza, but for some reason short ones always seem longer to Leo. He just didn’t want to start a movie, knowing he wouldn’t finish it, neither did he want to read a book. He unbuckled, and stood up, putting his phone down on his seat. He glanced back on his crew, his eyes stopped at Cris’ seat, where the Portuguese was calmly sleeping, holding onto his notebook like his life depended on it. He pouted his lips and curled up on the leather seat. It seemed like he was cold, but Leo saw how shiny his skin was from the warmness of the air. And Leo wished he could take a picture of it and put it somewhere safe, but instead he had a moment to take in the view before someone noticed his interested look. Cris, just like he felt the gaze on him, turned around and squeezed the black book in his hands even more. Was it Leo’s heart to skip a beat? It most certainly was.

***

‘Welcome to Ibiza,’ captain’s voice filled the quiet and sleepy space of the plane. Leo immediately rose his head in disorientation, startled from his nap. He looked around to notice people getting ready to stand up, one of his security guys was already stretching, almost hitting his arms on the ceiling. His eyes fell on the next row of seats, where Cristiano was. Tanned man’s eyes still half closed from his sleep, his mouth stretched in a wide yawn, but carefully covered by the back side of his palm. He seemed uninterested in their destination, only paying attention at the time and weather outside that captain was informing them about, then giving Tiago a bored look. 

They reached their hotel in an hour. It was this classic villa in white carved into the rock with a scenic view of the sea. And although it seemed old from outside - inside it was all modern, with simple minimalistic design. Leo walked in right away, getting his key from Tiago. They stayed in a rather small hotel, that had no more than six rooms with Lionel’s team occupying most of them. He, of course, stayed in the biggest room with his own kitchen and TV room which was now occupied with his luggage. He stepped in and exhaled, - he is here to put his shit together. 

This villa is where his crew would stay for the whole week, he was that kind of guy to get his people the same service he got and that was why all of his employees loved working for him. Not to forget - he made sure Cris and Tiago got a great room, which looked, of course, that he took care for his staff once more, but he mainly tried to live up to his promise. He, however wouldn’t stay here the whole time. It’s been agreed that he would rent out a boat and relax for couple of days. His assistant found this great spot, enclosed from eyes of strangers and paparazzis by huge rocks and he was crazy about going there. But that would happen in a little over than 24 hours, and till then he has some time to hang around and just chill. 

***

“Hey, guys!” Messi walked in onto the porch of the hotel, where his whole crew was dining at that moment, smiling bright and squinting his eyes because of the setting sun. Hotel had arranged a big table in the middle of a wide wooden floor, where all of them could see a beautiful sunset over a little bay. The dining table was filled with various drinks, most of them non-alcoholic, since all of them are at work and Leo is a footballer. Everybody also had a plate or two in front of them and Leo could already see his - a green salad with some grilled chicken. 

“Oh, I thought the boss won’t eat with his staff,” Tiago said, with a big smile mocking Leo for being late, Cristiano chuckled but covered his mouth with a back of his hand, sending weird look to one of Leo’s bodyguards, Marcelo. Leo smiled back at the joke, taking a seat right across from Cris. “You are leaving tomorrow at 10 in the morning,” Tiago mentioned, in between bites. “Are any of your friends coming?” 

Leo just shrugged, emitting an “eh” sound, while digging into his salad. Well, he hoped that could be read as “Nope” and not like “I don’t have any”, because he really does. He loves his friends. He looked up, but nobody seemed to care really. 

“Alright,” he smiled warmly, “let me know when you decide.” Their table went quiet for some time, with only a soft clatter of forks and a sound of chewing to be heard. After a minute or two, Tiago continued “Oh, by the way,” he smiled again, pointing at the Portuguese as he spoke. “Cristiano has arranged your outfits by days, too. Um, you can find the list in your messages. And if you don’t like something, he could change that, right?” Tiago pointed at Lionel’s phone on the table next to him. 

Leo looked up for a second, locking eyes on the mentioned guy. He didn’t seem to care about his name being said, eyes on his plate. “I thought he was coming with me.” Leo just pronounced. Chewing stopped and everybody went silent, at least it felt like that to the footballer. It’s like he said something weirdly inappropriate but nobody said anything in response. Cristiano looked at him, smirk on his tanned face. Boy, did he look even better in the last rays of sun, this indian red lighting in his pretty brown eyes, with the Mediterranean behind him. Leo looked down at his plate.

“I’m sure we can arrange that.” Tiago finally said, breaking the silence.

***

“Kun, umm, hi. I’m gonna go to the beach for a walk.” He said, biting his lip as if he was asking for a permission. 

“I’ll meet you at the front desk in ten.” A manly husky voice answered without any hesitation. He genuinely loved the guy. Kun was one of those guys who was a best friend, a great bodyguard and a father in one. They could talk for the longest time, on any topic and Kun was never the judging one. 

He dressed himself in his training gear that he honestly packed too much of. A baseball hat, one of those that Cris got him, stretched over his eyes, key and phone in his hand. By the time he was downstairs, Kun was already waiting, changed from his suit that he wore for the flight. He acknowledged Leo right away, smiling at him. They started to walk, there seemed to be a short path to the water that Kun wanted them to take. 

“What’s bothering you?” Kun broke the silence after some time of them quietly walking. His voice wasn’t demanding, more of suggesting. Leo just shrugged, and emitted a short unsure sound. “Don’t tell me it’s that loss,” he said angrily at Leo. He was Argentinian as well, so he understood Leo’s pain, but he would be the first one to bring up how hard was Leo working in that match, how he did his best. 

“No, no, it’s not that,” he pronounced, shaking his head. 

“You know you can trust me, Leo.” Kun stopped for a second there, like that move would prove his point even more. “I’ve noticed something was wrong this morning.” 

Leo looked at him, questioning his next words. “Umm, it’s just there is a person,” Leo wanted to continue, but he went silent. He closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle through his hair. His eyes were in the pockets of his light hoodie, eyes hidden under the cap. He was hoping Kun would read his mind, but a couple of seconds passed by and it hasn’t happen. “And I feel something about them.”

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Leo.” Kun said right away as if afraid that Leo would assume a longer time in silence as him judging, and putting his heavy hand on Messi’s shoulder, he squeezed soft skin in a reassuring sign. 

“Yeah, I just don’t know what I feel and what to do about it.” 

“You will figure it out, La Pulga,” Kun said smiling to him. “And I will help you with whatever you need, I promise.” His smile went even wider, his eyes looked at Leo with support and love. 

“Thanks,” he answered slowly, hugging his bodyguard, letting Kun hug him back as he felt inside of a cocoon of strong arms. They separated, and continued walking in a minute in silence. They saw some carved from a rock stairs and went down, following the trail. They discovered the beach shortly, sea was blue and welcoming in the last rays of sun. His calves were sore from all the sitting down today, but the pain felt nice, it felt usual and he felt alive for the first time today. Leo felt the texture of sand under the soles of his shoes, some got inside through the little ventilation holes in his shoes and it took him a minute more to take them off, holding them in his hand, pulling his socks off too and stuffing them inside of his trainers. His toes sunk in the grains of sand and it was the nicest, the most relaxing feeling. He looked up when Kun made a sudden weird sound, noticing a figure sitting on the sand not that far away. 

“I think that is Cristiano,” the bodyguard whispered, trying to look closer at the silhouette of a man. Now it was Leo’s turn to make a weird sound, which absolutely gave his feelings about the guy away. A confident smile dwelled on Kun’s face. “You should talk to him, Leo.” He said, looking smaller guy in the eyes, trying to convince him to go. “I will wait here.” Leo felt a sweaty palm on his back. He looked back again at his guard. “Good luck.” The smile on Kun’s face was so understanding, incredibly supportive and a little confident, as he won a big amount of money, that Leo immediately knew - Kun had a guess, and it turned out to be right. He smiled gratefully and turned his back to the bodyguard. This move of his was so symbolic, he felt like he was walking towards something big and towards something new, away from his lonely life, away from money and success.


	4. Chapter 4

His steps were silent on the still hot from the sun sand, but it felt really satisfying against his bare feet. As he was getting closer to Cristiano, the humming coming from the Portuguese was more and more audible. It was some slow and subtle song and Leo could imagine it to be a lullaby or some song for kids in Portuguese that Cris’ mother taught him. The Argentine was almost behind the other guy, when he saw that Cris in fact was drawing. Pencil strokes were so soft, but so accurate. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, almost afraid to break into this small world around his stylist. But it still made Cris shiver and yip. He saw fear in his eyes, immediately pushing back his strong desire to hug the poor Portuguese and comfort him, maybe giving him a hug would feel good. “It’s just me.” He quietly said, moving his hands in a calming way, his opened palms going up and down in the air. He smiled at Cris, who exhaled and noticeably relaxed, coming back to his previous peaceful state.

“Just Lionel Messi behind me, no big deal,” Cris joked, his voice mocking and sarcastic, and Leo thought for reasons it was the funniest thing ever. He laughed, locking his eyes on Cristiano’s drawing. It was a fashion sketch, a girl in a beautiful floor-length dress in the color of Ibiza sunset. 

“Your drawing,” Leo spoke, pointing at the notebook with his hand, “it’s beautiful.” He smiled. Oh, Leo felt like a ten-year-old. Sometimes he hated his shyness, hated that he couldn’t talk to people. But with Cristiano it seemed to be so much easier. Although the guy made him nervous, it was like the words came out of him easier, he never had to think a lot about what to say. 

“Oh, thanks.” Cris looked at him with an interested look, reddening, and closing his notebook and putting in away on the sand. “Wanna sit down?” He offered, patting the sand. He then looked straight, listening to the sound of waves, as the sun was setting ahead of them, giving his boss a fullness of choice.

Leo froze. His eyes were tracing the other man’s figure, finally coming to his beautiful profile. He mentally hit himself for behaving like an obsessed teenager, while Cristiano - the guy who ran away, was perfectly fine. He exhaled, sitting down on the slightly warm sand. 

They’ve sat in silence for a while, letting the sounds of the sea fill the air. They could see the porch of their hotel, bright lights and they slightly could hear some loud voices coming from there. Everything was so peaceful here, that Leo wanted this to last forever. 

He asked himself how could he feel something for his own employee several times today and to be honest it caused one of those headaches he had recently experienced more and more. Brain was telling him that he just needed to fuck the guy, but the heart was the one insisting that it was not just sexual attraction. However, at this particular moment, sitting next to the other, he could more or less understand. This guy, couple of inches away, was not only attractive, but also smart and loyal. He was never able to finish his thoughts of praising the stylist, as he heard Cristiano’s soft voice breaking the silence. 

“Do you really want me there?” He asked, voice trembling, but soft and incredibly quiet. Leo looked at him, studying his face. He umm-ed, showing his clueless facial expression, but never responded, so Cristiano explained himself. “On a boat?”

Messi’s face went expressionless for a minute, seemed like he was in a dead end with that question. He was trying to find an appropriate phrase to answer with, but it felt like somebody pushed an 'off' button in his brain. Any phrase sounded weird, he was thinking too hard, thinking how could he turn his answer towards the right feel, but nothing came in mind. He finally gave up after a rather long silence. “Yes.” He just simply answered, facepalming himself in his head already for the plainness of the reaction, for no explanation. He continued, embarrassed. “Do you not want to go?” 

And as both of them were biting on their lips, a seagull landed in front of them. Their eyes followed the beautiful graceful bird and it’s movements on the slightly wet sand. The wave came in, making the bird scare away and take off into unknown. “No, I do,” he blushed, hiding his face. “it’s just weird,” Cris shrugged, sounding even quieter. Leo looked at him, still not sure if he followed the guy. “I am your assistant, not a friend.” And that’s when the realization came. Leo blushed at his imagination throwing in a pic of them cuddling and holding hands. “Too early,” he thought to himself. 

“But you could be,” was Messi’s answer seconds later that he immediately regretted. He shouldn’t have, oh, he shouldn’t have said it. Cristiano was right, they are not friends and might never be, however, Cris didn’t respond. He stretched his arms behind his back, shifting his weight on his hands and exhaling. That move made his abs look more defined through the shirt and Leo made himself look away.

“We should head back,” Cris finally said in a quiet voice after some time, helping himself with his hands to get up and then shaking the sand from his palms and clothes off, making a little clapping sound at the end, notifying his boss that he was ready to go. “It’s late and I still have to organize myself for tomorrow,” he explained himself, smiling warmly. Leo looked up at him, standing there like the tallest mountain in the world and for the first time in ages he wanted to be taken care of, he wanted to feel that love and care and support only the lover can give. He shook off the thoughts, and saw stylist’s offered palm in front of him, he looked at it questioningly. But he never let any question strike his head again and he put his hand in Cristiano’s and it just felt so normal. Cris pulled him up, flexing his muscles and it just was too much for Leo. 

They walked towards Kun, who was waiting for them near the path leading back to the hotel. None of them said anything for the whole walk, they were taking in some personal experiences today and only Kun was smiling, feeling in the know. 

***

“Do you wanna go for a swim?” Cris heard and lifted his head up to face the other guy. Leo looked really embarrassed, his usually pale cheeks turned pink, as if he was almost afraid Cristiano would say no. He was standing by the creamy-white couch, on the other end of which the Portuguese was sitting with his laptop on his lap. Messi appeared in front of him in those indigo blue swimming shorts with little black turtles on them and a grey baseball cap. His pants were too low on him so that the defined V-line of his lower belly was clearly seen, his toned abs were just a little touched by the sun, his tattooed arm on the back of the couch, while the other one is behind his body. Cristiano fidgeted on the couch at the view, pulling the laptop closer to his groin. 

It was their first day on the yacht, Kun had spent most of the time outside, enjoying the view and looking around for any sign of paparazzi. “Sure,” Cristiano smiled, while putting his laptop away and closing its lid carefully, tracing a little apple on the surface with his finger, thinking about something. By this time Cris had somewhat accepted this situation and decided to go with the flow - if Leo wants to be friends, Cris could work with that. But to be honest - Cristiano would like to go way past this line. “I will be right out,” he said, getting up and walking towards his little room to change, leaving his computer behind on the couch.

Leo was standing next to a big outside table enjoying the fresh breeze. It was a big and perfectly white boat, “Seven C” written on it, with nice toned down windows and doors, creamy and beige couches everywhere and wooden flooring, with a big dining table outside, a little bar and a plenty of space to sunbathe. He stood with his back towards the door, which he regretted right that moment when Cristiano finally joined him. He turned around and his lower lip parted from the upper one. The Portuguese's body looked so attractive, so captivating. His shoulders were so wide, that it seemed like he could hide Leo from the world just by wrapping his arms around the small Argentine, his collarbones sticking out, making those little sexy dimples, his abs so defined, looking sharp as they were set in stone, sun playing with his biceps. He overall looked strong and muscular, which made Leo feel bad for himself. At the end of the day it was Leo’s job to stay fit and physically advanced, but even at this Cristiano was so much better. 

As his eyes travelled lower, following every curve of his stylist’s well-sculptured body, he stopped on his lower stomach. He opened his eyes wider, lips curving into a smirk. Cristiano was wearing the exact same pair of swimming shorts that he was offering Leo what seemed like ages ago - a pair of short peach beach shorts. “Interesting,” Leo thought. He licked his upper lip subconsciously and continued making his way down Cris’ body, who didn’t seem to care. His eyes locked on the soft light brown skin, strong hips captured under the peach fabric, muscular thighs, that same mark he saw before, the one he wanted to kiss so badly. And just then Cristiano cleared his throat, a little blush could be seen on tanned skin. Leo smiled, showing Cris the way to the water, letting him go ahead, so Leo could admire Cristiano’s wide strong back, slightly visible line of his spine, dimples at the lower back and last but not least, his round butt. 

The stylist never waited for him at the lower platform, immersing himself in warm salty water of the sea right away. Leo locked his eyes on him, his clearly seen lean figure underwater, and something about him was so childish and Messi would lie, if he told you he wasn’t admiring Cristiano once more today.

“You should stop staring and join me,” Cris said. It seemed that he wouldn’t run away any more. It seemed that it was Leo, who was afraid of being too close, and it definitely did seem that now it was Cris’ turn to mock Messi.

Leo dived into the water right the next minute. The water felt refreshing against his warmed up skin and his muscles relaxed in the cool salty liquid. He popped up on the surface of the sea, seeing Cristiano a foot or two away from him, smiling. 

“This feels nice,” he pronounced, his head only to be seen above the water. His eyes became more of a hazel color and his curls straightened out, falling onto his forehead. Leo nodded. This definitely did feel nice, even more so, Leo felt warmth spreading around his body - he felt comfortable. 

“Why don’t we see who can hold their breath for the longest time?” The footballer asked playfully, winking to his assistant. He was almost thirty, Cristiano was a little past the number, but breath holding competition never gets old. 

“What if you will fool me, Mr. Messi?” he asked, doubting, but throwing back his head, when laughing. His laugh was so pure, so cute, that Leo just couldn’t. He looked back at Kun, who was not even paying attention to them and exhaled, looking back at Cristiano.

“You can trust me,” Lionel finally answered, looking directly into Cris’ eyes and it was exactly what it was not supposed to be. It was an offer, an offer to trust Leo not only with stupid games, but with his feelings too. At least it felt like it to the Portuguese. Cris’ heart sank, he blinked and his breath hitched.

The stylist just nodded, still in a trance, breathing heavily. He heard Leo counting and he tried to inhale with his whole lungs, and they both immersed into the water. He opened his eyes immediately, seeing Leo in front of him, within his reach, his hair flying around him, touched by water and his brown eyes had that beautiful spark in them because of clear blue water. He was moving his limbs funny and one of his hands was covering his nose. Cris felt a little tingling in his stomach, when he caught Leo’s gaze and it felt like someone has beaten the air out of him.

He grabbed Leo’s arm, showing him that he is giving up, he started to feel dizzy, his world kept spinning, he was clearly out of breath, but the only constant was the warm feeling of their hands touching. Their eyes kept locked on each other and Cris surfaced right the next second.

Leo showed up seconds after Cris, without having any reason to continue the competition when the other competitor had already lost. He emerged from the depth of the sea, flicking his hair off his forehead and smiling. Cris smiled back at him so warmly, so supportive that it was Leo’s heart’s turn to sink.

And Leo wanted to get drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is here! 
> 
> Thank you guys again for your lovely feedback, I loooooove to read about your feelings and impressions, as I write and publish my work to cause those feelings in my readers and it makes me happy when I see that I've made you smile or if you felt the exact same emotion I did while writing! 
> 
> Also, I am very interested to see what you think will be coming next. So if you have any guesses, please let me know, and we'll see if you were right! 
> 
> Also, thank you for all those hits/kudos and for reading this work! 
> 
> Love,   
> lymie


	5. Chapter 5

And that’s exactly what he did.

He was by himself, when he discovered a hidden bar in the kitchen area of the boat. And at that moment, that exact second of his life all he wanted to be is just a human. Not ‘La Pulga’, not Lionel Messi, not Barca player, he wanted to be Leo from Rosario, Argentina. 

It was their third day on the boat, Cristiano was long gone, hiding in his small room and probably working. Leo haven’t spent a day without not seeing Cris’ laptop or notebook. His face always looked so concerned, so concentrated on something he was working, whether his fingers flew over the keyboard, or his hand moved gracefully over the piece of paper, squeezing a pencil. And although it was boring for Leo, it was also amazing to watch Cris at work.

However, they had a fantastic time today and yesterday too, and Leo was so hurt by it, his heart was constantly sinking and he figured doctors back at Barcelona won’t like his tachycardia. By the end of the day, when they had a delicious dinner on the deck, for the fourth time watching sunset together with Kun, sitting couple of feet away. And he realized, that maybe it was too romantic, the fact that there were only two of them was romantic, and with every cell of his he wished it didn’t just seem romantic. He wanted it to be that way, over the past three days his desire for Cris to be in his life so bad has grown, he wanted him to experience only the best things and he wanted to provide those experiences for him. 

It’s crazy how sometimes years of being shoulder to shoulder with person can mean less than a few days. How sometimes seeing a person in a different light, seeing person’s emotions, their attitude towards certain things can change everything, can flip your world upside down. 

And it’s scary that it’s been a week and Leo had already felt so dependent, felt so attracted to Cristiano that it hurt himself, it hurt his stubborn nature, that didn’t want to approve of it, that wished that feeling never happened, that Cristiano had never walked into the room. But then there was his heart that wanted to thank god, the universe or whoever and whatever blessed him with that tall tanned man. 

He opened a bottle of whiskey easily, it didn’t smell good and didn’t taste that good to him - one of the disadvantages of not drinking often. And he knew for the most part that you can’t solve a problem with a bottle, but you can rather forget the question. And neither was his reason to consume alcohol - he just wanted to relax. 

Kun walked into the room, when Leo was pouring his fourth glass already, stretched out on the sofa. “Uh-huh,” he shook his head, closing his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing, brother?” The man asked, voice soft as he was talking to the child. He was a little younger than Leo, but that had never meant that he wasn’t wiser. 

“I just want to relax, hombre,” Leo said, leaning on the soft couch with his back, looking around with bleary eyes. “I am on vacation, Kun.” He mumbled, shaking his hand.

“That doesn’t mean anything, Lionel.” He looked straight into Leo’s eyes, intimidating as he was. “If you want to solve your problem, you should try your best, show him you really need him and you will get him.” Kun said, Messi looked at him in shock. God, was he that obvious? “Both of you are obvious.” he exhaled, reading Leo’s thoughts, while still looking at his client. 

“What do you mean both of us?” 

“Exactly what you think I do,” he smiled. “And now go to sleep, Leo.” He stood up from the chair next to the footballer, patting Leo’s thigh. “You shouldn't forget who you are with that bottle.” 

“Thanks, Kun.” The Argentine just quickly said, putting the glass on the coffee table in front of him. “Good night.” 

“Good night, La Pulga.” And the whole room went silent. Leo looked at the bottle, standing there lonely. What a fool he is, swallowing disgusting and burning liquid glass after glass, lighting a fire in his blood vessels and organs for nothing. He could change nothing by doing that. 

He stood up, staggering. It was too much, he thought, he shouldn't have done it, it was stupid of him, but what has been done couldn’t be changed. He tried to walk carefully, but he hit his hip six or seven times on the same table and he knew that by tomorrow he would have a huge ugly bruise there.

He walked down the corridor to the first room, which was supposed to be his. He never took off his clothes, and what meant by that is a pair of dry beach shorts and a nice cotton t-shirt. And he just fell onto the bed, not noticing anything around him with his arm hanging from the white mattress, and his leg fully on the ground.

But he probably should’ve paid attention, he should’ve wait to fall asleep, he should’ve checked the room because right the next second Cristiano woke up from his sleep, disoriented. He switched the lamp on his bedside table on, squinting his eyes from the sudden brightness while trying to focus on the figure face planted on his bed. He closed his eyes for a second, suppressing laughter. He then sighed, bringing his face closer to the man, smelling alcohol from Messi and a little smile found its way to his tanned face.

He sat up, hands combing through his hair. Cris hooked his arm around Leo’s legs to pull his boss fully on the bed, taking off his flip-flops. He put a pillow under his head with an accuracy of a surgeon, knowing that Leo wouldn’t wake up easily, but still not wanting to hurt that goofball. He wanted to take his boss’ shirt off, just for him to be more comfortable, but Lionel was too grumpy and sleepy and Cristiano didn’t want to deal with that.

When he was satisfied enough with how Leo was positioned on his bed, he layed down again, watching Leo sleep. He looked so funny, but it didn’t stop him from reaching down and putting a quick kiss onto the side of Leo’s forehead. Soon after he was fast asleep in couple of minutes, lulled back to sleep with Leo’s drunk murmuring. 

***

The footballer woke up, moaning from pain that his head was suffering. He opened one eye, then the second one, squeezing them shut again because of the bright lighting. He was lying like this - his body fully stretched on the bed, blanket underneath his spine - for a minute. Then, he embraced himself and opened his eyes again. His gaze immediately fell upon the white ceiling, then to the bedside table with a phone on it. Not his phone. Cristiano’s phone. 

He sat up immediately, grimacing because of the pain from such a sudden move. He looked around. A black leather backpack on an armchair next to the bed, also not his, a plain white bedding, a little different from all-black sheets he have slept on before. He was in Cristiano’s room and the bed on Cris’ side was still a little warm, which meant Cristiano was sleeping here too, they were together here.

He opened his eyes in shock. He prayed to every god there is, hoping nothing happened between the two of them. Hoping he didn’t do anything bad. His hands started to shake, all possible, both rational and irrational thoughts appearing in his brain. He wasn’t naked - good for him, it also didn’t seem like Cristiano wasn’t completely gone - he left his things here, which meant he will come back soon. 

With that thought, he walked out of the room, passing the corridor exactly to where his room is and promising himself he would never drink again. We all know those promises are never true. 

He’s done his morning routine, took a nice contrast shower, washing off sweat, salt and he just genuinely felt himself better. He has changed into the other pair of shorts he had, besides the white ones that he just took off, a maroon pair with pinkish polka dots and pairing them with a maroon baseball cap, just like it was written in the document Cristiano had sent him. 

***

“Look who’s up.” Kun said, smiling wide, while taking a sip of his juice. Cristiano was lying on the couch out on the sun, tanning his skin even more as if it was even possible. He turned his head towards Leo, giggling at Kun’s words. “I thought you wouldn’t be awake for a couple more hours.” 

“I wasn’t that drunk,” Leo said, upset and embarrassed. He pouted his lips, which was Cristiano's signature move and he wanted to seem upset with those words up until he saw Cris’ interested look on his hips. He wanted to smirk, but it didn’t look as good as he expected it to be. 

“Of course, you weren’t,” the bodyguard finally gave up on embarrassing his boss, and Leo was really thankful for that. “Here,” he pointed at the table, “have some breakfast.” Leo eyed the table of fruit, juice and sandwiches, even a bowl of oatmeal with a great appetite and he already knew how hard would he have to work on his arrival back home. Or he might even use his hotel’s gym, when they get back. “Also, here is a pill to treat your headache.” 

And he never loved his bodyguard more. He nodded, taking a pill, when heard Kun. “Actually Cristiano got it for you,” and that is when Leo turned to the Portuguese to see his little mocking smile and he wanted to erase it, put on a nice warm smile he’d seen before. 

He smiled though, hiding his eyes under a cap. “Thanks,” he said. 

***

It was later in the day, when he persuaded Cristiano to put his notebook and laptop away. They were lying on the couch outside in the sun, Kun watching over them and any movement in the distance. He was the one who actually did his job, - Cristiano thought.

“I’m not sure what happened, but I’m sorry.” Leo said suddenly, making Cris lift his head up. They were lying on soft pillows, their hands and calves touching, but it was rather comfortable than awkward. He had this unsure expression on his face, having no clue at what his friend was saying.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, studying Leo’s face. His skin was all shiny from all the sunscreen he’d used on it.

“The night,” he said, really hoping Cristiano would understand his effort, but seeing Leo’s cheeks turn red seemed to bring him a special pleasure. “Don’t make me say that.” He had an annoyed smile on his face, which sounds totally random, but that’s what you get when you’re annoyed with someone you genuinely like. 

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.” The stylist had a confident smirk on his face. Leo actually had thought about this before, how he was always described as frowny, but he couldn’t remember any moment with Cris when he actually was sad or looked that way. He felt like he was constantly smiling around the other.

“I am sorry for showing up in you bedroom drunk and falling asleep in your bed?” 

Cristiano nodded in acceptance of the apology, smiling softly. This was their last day on the boat and the last day in their personal heaven. Leo frowned at that thought. What would the life be like when they get back? Will Cris be so caring and responding to him? 

He started to hum some lilting melody, lulling Leo to sleep. It seemed to be a Spanish song this time and he’s heard it from Pique once. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, and he felt sudden drowsiness in his body. He brought his body closer to the other man, his head touching Cris’ shoulder. Cristiano stretched his hand under Leo’s neck, making him lay his head on his shoulder. The stylist bent his elbow and caressed Leo’s hair, combing through it in a very tender way. It was weird how comfortable they got with each other over this short trip.

“You’ll get sunburnt, Mr. Messi,” Cris whispered in his ear mockingly, his cool breath tickling Leo’s skin. He almost touched Leo with his lips, and footballer would probably really enjoy it, but he stopped, looking up again.

***

“What are your plans for the rest of the vacation?” Cris’ voice was quiet, so only Leo would hear him. He turned his brown eyes to Leo, tracing his torso.

They were chilling again, but moved to a different location now as the sun was too bright and dangerous. They were still very close, as two best friends maybe, stretched out on the creamy couch, their legs touching the other’s.

“I don’t know, what do you want to do?” Leo asked, watching Cristiano’s confused look. Hazel eyes met dark brown ones and it was funny how their eyes changed color, but they were never the same color as the other’s ones. Cristiano’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened in shock. 

“It is your vacation, Mr. Messi.” He reminded, with a distinct confusion on his face, looking like a statue. He sat up, using his arm to balance himself. But even in this position (or any other position really) he looked like a greek god. 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t ask you.” Leo said, smiling at his assistant. He looked suggestive at Cristiano, as he wanted to find out his deepest and darkest secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments again! 
> 
> I took time to write more for you, so updates now will be coming sooner! So far, there will be 6 chapters, meaning that this one was pre-last one. 
> 
> Thank you for your continuing support, that is really important for me as a writer! I appreciate every single hit, kudo and comment! 
> 
> Love,  
> lymee


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sixth and final chapter is here! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The Portuguese was standing in front of the mirror, fixing his hair. He had this plain white elongated t-shirt on that looked incredibly great on his tanned skin, accentuating his toned torso. His legs were hugged by navy blue cotton shorts, that accentuated his body in the right places and showed off his even more tan bronze skin. He walked out of the room, closing the door behind himself. In a short second he was standing in front of the similar door. He opened it with no hesitation. 

“You know, when I said I wanted a nice dinner somewhere you didn’t have to do it, right?” He walked in, without knocking, and said shyly, a little pink was seen in his cheeks. The man looked at his from across the room, arching his eyebrow. Lionel was standing topless in the middle of the room, trying to choose on the t-shirt to wear. 

“I thought we’ve gone over it,” Leo stated, turning to the mirror. “Come and help me out.” He invited Cris to where he was standing. His body looked more sun-kissed, the muscles on his back were moving under the silky skin and it took Cristiano a moment to stop staring and walk towards the guy. “You finally get to do your job,” he smiled, joking around, making the Portuguese blush even more. 

“The black one looks better,” Cris spoke in a very hoarse voice. “You can pair the outfit with those sneakers,” he said, turning from an ashamed man to a professional stylist and he charmed Leo once more. “You like it?” 

“Sure,” he agreed, looking at his watch. “It’s time to go.” 

***

“Where are we going?” Cristiano asked impatiently, touching Leo’s biceps. The other smiled at him reassuringly, grabbing the stylist’s palm and intertwining their fingers and squeezing them for support. 

The taller man looked down on their hands together and smiled, somewhat in shock. Leo’s smell, touch and personality wrapped his body like a cozy blanket, he felt this tingling in his lower stomach and the tips of his fingers and his breath hitched. It was too surreal to him still, being so close to Leo. 

“Trust me.” 

They both recalled the time on the boat, seemed like ages ago, but a couple of days in fact. A lot has happened and Cris never had regretted that he actually went. Cristiano squeezed his hand in response, exhaling. They’ve spent the next minute or so walking in silence, only the steps to be heard, while Kun was walking behind them as the night was descending. 

He suddenly saw familiar stones, bushes and the path in general, he’d walked on it before. It wasn’t long till he saw a soft lighting coming from the beach. He looked questioning, but Leo just smiled at him once more so softly, tender and it struck some emotion inside of Cristiano. 

They came out on the beach, and he gasped. A round table for two was standing near the water, with warm lighting coming from several candles and a bottle of wine, which was a little funny, they both recalled an incident Leo had with alcohol. The table was covered in snow-white tablecloth, some plates were on it, filled with fruit and what looked like a salad. Cris smiled, still in shock. It was so cliche, but so special to him. 

Leo squeezed his hand again - it started to be their thing at some point - the stylist wandered to himself and it would probably be on the list right next to the brow arching. Cris turned to the other, light from candles brought that golden color to his eyes and his skin. He hoped Leo could see his excitement, his appreciation and affection for the man in front of him. 

The Argentine lead him to the table, seating him down, adding a careful tap on his shouder as if made sure Cris was alright, and then circling it to sit down himself across the table. They caught each other’s gaze and smiled. A waiter came out of nowhere, pouring wine into their glasses. None of them cared though, staring at each other. 

Leo found his hand, not breaking the eye contact, and put his over Cris'. His thumb caressed the soft bronze skin on the back of Cristiano’s hand. “What do you think?” 

Cris didn't answer, but his blinding, wide and happy smile said it all. The stylist closed his eyes for just a second, but when he opened them, he still caught Leo’s loving gaze. 

It was too weird to understand their feelings, at some point Cristiano figured out that there, in front of himself, was his boss and one of the best footballers in the world, but right the next minute he saw his Leo across the table. 

They clinked their glasses in a comfortable silence. Cristiano sipped some of his rose wine, and put his glass down, while looking at the sea. He had a crazy amount of questions in his head, and he was either afraid or shy to ask any of them. Sitting here, alone with Leo, who looked at him with this affectionate look in his dark eyes, he couldn’t believe what was happening and he mostly still couldn’t understand anything. His face must have scared Leo with a complex emotion shown on it, so Cris turned back to Leo. 

“Leo?” Cris said, voice quiet and unsure. Lionel moved his body as he was woken up suddenly from a deep sleep. He looked up, amazed, his lips parted in shock. This was the first time ever he heard his name coming out of his handsome stylist and all this atmosphere with this romantic light and view suddenly became too much. It sounded so pure, so lovely and it seemed to him that he has heard those three letters in a completely new way, the one he has never heard before in 29 years of his life, taking to account, his name is constantly shouted by different people. But this quiet and unsure version of it was the best one to him, the softest, like a warm sweater on a winter day, the warmest, like a cup of tea after a hard game, the most gentle one. He immediately stopped himself from asking Cristiano to say it again and suppressed a quiet moan that was already birthing inside of his throat.

“Yes?” 

“What is all of this?” He circled the table with his arms. He looked confused, almost lost in the situation. 

Leo was too nervous to answer, but in fact it was Cristiano who gave him mixed signals. He was so excited, so amazed with this set-up, and now he turned into a self conscious teenager.

“It’s a nice dinner, just liked you wanted.” He blurted out, confused.

“Yeah, but it’s like so romantic,” he started, shy. He remembered the last time they were on this beach and got even more confused. “I am not you boyfriend.” 

Leo looked at him and smiled. Cristiano was still staring at him, shy. A minute passed and Cris’ eyes were lighting up with realization every single second. 

The Argentine cleared his throat and spoke in a quiet voice. He stood up, coming up to Cristiano, and taking his hand. He lifted Cris' plm and put it to his chest. “But you could be,” he said right before he reached down and passionately kissed his lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post this as soon as I could - as a reward for your feedback and kudos! 
> 
> I have somewhat bittersweet feelings now as I am posting this last chapter. 
> 
> I am so happy my debute work is doing so well because of your support! Thank you for comments, kudos, hits and subscriptions! English is not my mother language, so it means a world to me that you love it so much! You guys inspired me throughout the whole process of writing this piece of work and continue to inspire me to do me and be myself. I can assure you, more things are coming! 
> 
> I am thinking about writing a small 1-chapter work as a sequel, so stay tuned!
> 
> P.S. I am watching Portugal-Andorra now and Cristiano just scored his 4th goal, can't be happier for him!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys love it! I'd love to see what you think about my work.


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